


How To Care For Your Rogue

by The_Disaster_Tiefling (Akiko_Natsuko)



Series: How to care for your... [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood and Injury, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Nightmares, Promises, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2020-05-19 05:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19350445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/The_Disaster_Tiefling
Summary: They're a bunch of misfits, with secrets and trust issues aplenty. But they're also a family, and they take care of their own.Rogue Edition





	1. Caleb: Part 1

    There was blood on her lips as she crept up the stairs of the inn, they were currently calling home, desperately hoping that she wouldn’t encounter any of the others before she’d managed to clean herself up. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her itch, or the fact that she had been caught. The others had long since accepted that part of her, some of them, especially Jester even willing to help her when the itch struck. Nor was it that she thought that they wouldn’t care about her injuries, her entire body a throbbing mass, the burn flaring with each staggering step as she caught the wounds. No, it was the reason behind the attack, the harsh words that had cut deeper than the blades, that had her curling in on herself, wanting to hide from the world.

Including her friends.

    She tried to be stealthy as she crept into the room that she was sharing with Caleb, but whether her injuries had made her clumsy, or his demons had been keeping him awake, a globule of dancing light burst into the air above them, lighting the room as the wizard sat up on the bed. She’d instinctively thrown up her hands, trying to shield her face from his searching blue eyes, but it had been too late, she could see it in the narrowing of his eyes. The slow, deliberate push that left the covers crumpled at the end of the bed, and her breath caught. _He knows._ She couldn’t breathe, an ache spreading across her chest as she stared at him with wide eyes, unable to bring herself to move, not even to drop her hands as he slid out of bed and took a cautious step towards her.

“…Nott?”

      Nott wanted to say something, to ease the worry she could see in his expression, but the words wouldn’t rise past the ache in her chest. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but blink helplessly at him, barely aware of how her hands had started to tremble as she sought to cover her face. Caleb noticed. He always noticed when it was her, and at that moment, she almost hated him for it, because she wanted to hide. She wanted to disappear. To lose herself where no one would be able to see her like this. The desire rose and crested, and finally, she managed to move. Just a tiny shift of her head, so that she was staring at the floor rather than at Caleb. It didn’t help much, but she could trace the grain of the wood. Lose herself in the patterns and pretend that she wasn’t hyper-aware of the slow pad of Caleb’s feet against the same wood as he drew closer.

    It didn’t stop her from seeing his knees as they appeared in the periphery of her vision, and she tensed but didn’t pull away, even with the left-over fear still simmering beneath the surface. Because this was Caleb. Caleb who had always seen her as a person, even when he had been tossed into her cell in the prison, whose hands were now hovering between her and the floor, hesitating as he waited to see if she would tolerate his touch.

“Please, look at me.” She always struggled to deny Caleb anything, and there was no way she could ignore that soft, pleading tone, and even as she wanted nothing more than to hide her shame from the world, she found herself lifting her head to look at him. There was a sharp intake of breath, and for a moment the air between them turned warm, arcane sparks dancing around his fingers, then the warmth was gone, and his fingers were agonisingly gentle as he grasped her chin. “Who did this?” There were steel and fire in his voice, and for a moment she could believe that he had once been destined to be a soldier of the Empire, a killer that didn’t freeze when his flames took someone’s life, and yet she wasn’t afraid of him.

“It doesn’t matter,” she finally forced out, breath coming in a wheeze, not enough to ease the ache in her chest. His fingers left her chin, both hands coming to rest ever so lightly on her shoulders, smoothing across them, mindful of hidden damage, and no doubt noting her flinch when he passed over a deep bruise.

“You need to breathe, Liebling.”

     She wanted to. The ache in her chest beginning to encompass the other hurts, but her body wasn’t listening to her, and all she could do was shake her head mutely, eyes huge as she stared at him. She didn’t want to worry him, could see the concern blossoming in his gaze, hands clenching at her sides, claws biting into her palm. _I can’t._ Her vision was blurring, and for a moment Caleb’s visage seemed to waver and dim, and she was back in the street, cowering away from the men towering over and she pressed the claws deeper into her flesh to bring herself back to the present. “C-Caleb…” She wasn’t sure what she needed or wanted, and her vision was turning dark around the edges for a different reason now, as her breathing refused to ease.

    Warmth embraced her. It took her a moment to realise that Caleb was hugging her, holding her close, in a way that he rarely would with anyone else, pressing her into his chest so that she could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. His heartbeat was faster than usual, no doubt a reaction to her state, but his breathing was regular, and as she felt him take a deep breath and then another, she realised he was doing it for her sake. That he was doing all this for her, the close contact, the warmth, the breathing that she unconsciously found herself imitating, slumping against him, as her breathing began to ease. The ache lingered, but it was no longer as all-encompassing, and as she pressed her face into his shoulder, she winced as she was reminded of her other injuries. She knew that Caleb had noticed, but he didn’t say anything, let her hide as she tried to regain control of her emotions.

      It was only when she began to curl into him in a way that threatened sleep, that he moved, sweeping her up in his arms, drawing a startled noise of protest from her. “We need to get those injuries looked at before you can sleep,” he explained, shushing her with a soft apology, and she nodded reluctantly, knowing that she would have insisted on the same if their positions had been reversed. She expected him to set her on the bed, but instead, he headed for the door with a determined expression on his face, and she tried to wiggle free as she realised what he had in mind.

“Don’t disturb them, you can patch me up…”

“They won’t mind,” Caleb scolded, holding her easily in place. “You know they won’t.” She did know, or at least her head did. Right now, her heart wasn’t sure about anything, the attack – the fear and hated in the voices and hands that had assailed her – having old fears and doubts surging to the front once more. She had forgotten what it was like. Caleb had always treated her as a person, even when he had been wary, seeing their partnership as a short-term path to freedom, and the rest of the Nein had followed suit. She had never just been a Goblin in their eyes, even when the baser aspects of her forced form rose to the surface. And hidden amongst them, she had been sheltered from the reactions of the world, able to blend in with the chaos and colour, until no one spared her so much as a second glance.

“I…”

“Come on.” Part of her wanted to point out that if he were in her position, he would refuse to wake the others, but the words wouldn’t come, because he was worried. Because of her, and she hurt too much, in a way that wasn’t just physical, and she sighed and nodded, the fight draining out of her.

   Nott was quiet as they moved down the hallway, glad that it was late enough that no one else was up and about if only to spare Caleb any trouble that might come his way if they realised what she was because she wasn’t sure where her mask was at the moment. Caleb didn’t seem to mind her quiet, although his grip tightened a little every few seconds, a silent reassurance that he was with her, as he padded past the first two doors beyond their room and stopped at the third. Ever so carefully adjusting his grip on her so that he could knock lightly on the door, and it was only when they heard slow movement, and a sleepy groan on the other side of the room, that she didn’t want Jester to see her like this.

    She needn’t have worried, and briefly, she wondered if the wizard had managed to read her mind when the door opened a moment later, a sleepy Caduceus peering down at them, pink hair sticking up in all directions.

“Caduceus,” Caleb was calm, as though he hadn’t just roused the Firbolg in the middle of the night, and Nott clung to that, trying to let some of his calm bleed into her. “I am sorry to disturb you.” He added, as though it was his fault, and not Nott’s, but when she opened her mouth to protest, his grip tightened. “We could use your help.” Even half-asleep Caduceus was no slouch, and he knew that Caleb would never have willingly disturbed him for his own sake, and the Firbolg’s eyes narrowed, gaze sharpening as it focused on Nott who tried to burrow into Caleb’s warmth, feeling oddly exposed beneath the focused gaze.

“Of course,” Caduceus murmured, glancing behind him before stepping out into the hallway to join them as they heard Fjord snoring. “Nott, may I see…?” He asked, as gentle in his own way as Caleb had been, and yet somehow overwhelming and Nott shut her head and burrowed against Caleb, trying to hide the damage from his eyes.

“Liebling…”

“It’s all right,” Caduceus murmured, then his hand was on her back, gentle and warm, and she flinched.  Badly. The silence spoke volumes, and she squeezed her eyes shut, and bit her lip, only to wince as she was reminded about her bloody mouth and she went tense. Waiting for them to scold her for her reaction, for Caduceus to pull away. He didn’t, his hand lingering, just as gentle and warm as before, rising and falling with each ragged breath she took, waiting for her, she realised belatedly. It was Caleb’s warmth that she focused on instead. She knew that his strength lay in the arcane and not the physical, although she would never admit that aloud where someone else could hear, and yet right then, as his arms tightened around her it was his strength that bolstered her, making her lift her head and peek at Caduceus out of one massive eye. If he was upset by her reaction, it didn’t show, as he smiled at her. “I’m going to heal you now, okay?”

“Yes…please,” she managed to whisper, before hiding her face once more, even as the hand resting on her back began to grow warmer.

    It was like a summer breeze, as the gentle warmth slipped across her skin, easing them until it was like she had never been injured, before moving on. With each one, the throbbing eased and faded, until she took a deep breath and felt no pain whatsoever. Belatedly she realised a second hand had come to rest on her head, gentle fingers brushing through her hair, as more divine magic flowed into her, making sure that not even the slightest bruise remained behind. It was more than he would typically do, and she had a feeling it was not just because they had the luxury of being somewhere safe, where he could take the time to heal her so thoroughly or where he could rest and recover his magic.

“Will she be all right?” Caleb was the one to break the silence, as the warmth of Caduceus’ magic slowly began to recede from her body. Nott wanted to tell him that she was okay, but it would have been a lie. The pain was gone. The physical damage wiped away as though it had never been there, but the fear lingered. The curses and insults, stuck beneath her skin like barbs, refusing to let go even within the safety of Caleb’s arms and with Caduceus’ calm settling around her, a shield against the rest of the world.

“She needs to rest, but she will be fine,” Caduceus was the one to reply, his hands lingering a moment later before slowly withdrawing, and she had a feeling that they were having a silent conversation over her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She felt tired all of a sudden, a bone-deep weariness that she had a feeling had very little to do with the time of day or recent healing, and more to do with the feeling that she would never be able to escape this form and how the rest of the world saw her.

“Thank you,” Caleb murmured. “I will make sure that she rests if you could see that the others don’t disturb us to early.” It was a valid plea, as Jester’s mischievous streak had only grown during the days of peace and rest, and she had woken Beau and Yasha the day before by bouncing all over their beds and nearly tipping the former onto the floor in her enthusiasm.

    Although Nott blearily wondered if that was what she needed. If Jester’s exuberance would chase away the lingering fear beneath her skin, but she didn’t voice that thought, clutching Caleb’s shirt between trembling fingers as Caduceus promised to keep the others at bay, before wishing them a good night. She could feel his gaze lingering on her as Caleb moved back towards their room, and she knew that she should thank him for healing her, but it was all too much right now, and she promised herself that she would find him something nice and shiny later. Or a nice plant, she amended, remembering that he hadn’t displayed much interest in her treasure trove beyond the fact that it was important to her.

    Caleb was quiet as they returned to their room. Although he was just as gentle as he had been when she was injured as he settled her on the edge of the bed, before kneeling in front of her, while Frumpkin who had stirred with a sleepy meep moved to press against her back. “Nott,” he murmured, a hand on her knee, waiting patiently for her to lift her eyes to meet his. “I want to know who did this.” It’s not a question or a request. There is steel and fire in his voice once more, an anger that burns brighter than his flames, but she’s not afraid of it, because his gaze as it holds hers is still that of her Boy. Of the Caleb who is endlessly patient when teaching her new spells. Who has never complained about her itch, even when it landed them both in trouble, and who had risked his life again and again to preserve hers.

“…I wasn’t stealing…” It wasn’t what she had meant to start with, but it bursts out a strangled whisper. It was true. It wasn’t that the itch wasn’t there, it was, although muted as it had been for a while, tempered by the various trinkets they found in their adventure. But it hadn’t been what had driven her out into the night. “I was looking for a bookshop…and for these.” She’s still trembling she realises as she reaches into her cloak and pulls out a ruined clump of white flowers, their delicate petals now bloodied and crushed, and she can feel her eyes beginning to burn as she stared at them. “I…”

“These were for Yasha?” She loves and hates Caleb for understanding her so well at that moment, nodding as she blinked back tears. It had been the bookshop that had been her goal, because she knew Caleb had read everything the party had on them at the moment, even the ridiculous romance books that Jester seemed to accumulate no matter where they went, and that he finally had some gold that could be spent on books rather than spell components. But, she hadn’t been blind to the fact that Yasha had been quiet for the last few days, after a particularly stormy night had resulted in her waking the group, as she rose screaming from a nightmare that she had refused to share with anyone, and when she had spotted the flowers she had grabbed them.

“I wanted to try and make her smile,” she admitted in a broken voice. _And I ruined that too._ That wasn’t her speaking, she knew that. It was the echoes of the words that had been thrown at her for being a Goblin, both today and since she had first woken in this cursed body. Still, the thought crept in, and she closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight of the flowers anymore, not fighting when Caleb reached out and took them from her. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong…”

_She had been crouched above the patch of flowers, carefully trying to pick them without damaging the plant, wanting them to be able to flower again. Yasha was always so gentle when she picked hers, and Nott couldn’t bring herself to be any less. She had just been standing up, her prize in her hands, when cold steel had touched the back of her neck, and she had frozen in place._

_“Well, what do we have here…a filthy little Goblin.”_

“Crownsguard?” Caleb asked, and there was ice in his voice now, and as she glanced up at him, she wondered what her expression had shown because what had been anger before, was fury now. Fury that burned bright.

“I don’t think so…” She shook her head and then shrugged. It had been so quick. They hadn’t been interested in knowing why she was there, or why she wasn’t acting like a typical Goblin. They had seen her green skin, and pointed teeth and leapt to conclusions, and they had been on her like wolves before she could even think of bolting for safety. “They…” There was a lump in her throat, the words drying up and leaving her feeling hollow. Just like that, Caleb’s rage receded, and he moved to wrap her in a tight hug.

“You are safe now.” Wearily she wondered how he could make that sound like a promise and a threat, before deciding that she didn’t care as she burrowed into him, burying trembling hands in the folds of his shirt once more. _I’m safe with him._ That was one truth the fear couldn’t take from her. She was still shaking inside, ready to bolt at the slightest noise…flinching from Caduceus’ touch, but not from Caleb. Never from Caleb, and she could feel her eyes beginning to close, her exhaustion overwhelming even her fear, and when Caleb didn’t resume his questions, she gave in to the tug of sleep. “I will make sure of it…” The words were soft, washing over her and she frowned, wondering what he meant by that, but too tired to stir and ask, and she drifted off with his promise echoing in her ears.

 

 


	2. Caleb: Part 2

   Caleb was careful as he slipped out of bed, faltering when Nott made a small noise of protest and peering over his shoulder, waiting to see if she would stir. Relieved, when she frowned before moving across to curl up in the warm spot, he had left behind, making herself small in the space in a way that she hadn’t done for months now. It reminded him painfully of the prison cell where they had first met, and how she had always tried to make herself invisible, even when he had been in no state to do anything but watch her. He almost climbed back into bed there and then, wanting her to feel safe at least, but he fought the urge, knowing that if he did, then he might lose his only chance to find the people that had done this. Ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like a mixture of Beau and Fjord, telling him not to do this, or at least not to go alone as he moved across to where he had tossed his clothes and book holsters the night before.

    As he dressed himself, he considered what he was about to do. He knew that his actions were going to spell the end of the peace they had found here. No, that had already happened. The moment they had a laid a hand on Nott, they had chosen their own fate. Still, he hesitated for a moment, somewhat afraid of the anger simmering beneath his skin, of the bloodlust that he could feel stirring. It had been a long time since he’d felt like that, and he’d told himself that it belonged to a different time. A different person. However, he didn’t hide from it, his eyes sliding back to Nott as he pulled the book holsters into place, fingers gliding over leather and parchment. _I will make sure of it,_ the promise he had made echoed in his thoughts, burying his doubts and he sighed.  _I will write it in blood if it is what it takes,_ he added, watching as she shifted again, brow furrowed and a soft noise building in the back of her throat, heralding another nightmare no doubt.

   It had been a long night. As tired as Nott had been from everything that had happened, it hadn’t been enough to silence her mind, and he had lost count of how often she had roused them both as the hours had trickled past. Sometimes she’d woken screaming and gasping, hands flung up to protect herself, and those were the worst because she would be fighting a danger that wasn’t there, and Caleb had found himself coming to life beside her, sparks dancing around his fingers and ready to fight for her. It had taken them both a while to settle again on those occasions. Other times she had woken quietly, trembling and damp-cheeked, turning into his warmth and hiding herself against him, and whether he woke or not, his arm would find its way around her, pulling her close. Shielding her. She’d tried to apologise the first couple of times, but Caleb had shushed her each time, unable to bear to hear her apologising for what had been done to her.

   However, this time, he couldn’t go to her, a fire burning in his soul. Instead, he hesitated for a moment before picking up his coat and retrieving what components he needed from the deep pockets before moving back to the bed. With gentle hands he draped the coat over her, tucking it in around her, hoping to at least imitate his warmth long enough to escape, before clicking his fingers and summoning Frumpkin who blinked up at him and mewled sleepily. _Stay with her,_ he ordered, not daring to speak aloud even as Nott settled, her fingers clutching at his coat and pulling it closer, chasing the offered comfort. The cat gave him a look as though to ask if he had expected him to do anything else, before moving to curl against her feet, beginning to purr low in his chest and Caleb reached out, scratching behind his ear for a moment. _Thank you._

    Satisfied that Nott was safe for now, knowing that Frumpkin would let him know if that changed, he forced himself to move, his mind turning back to what he was about to do. Who he was about to become. _They hurt her,_ he reminded himself. _They scared her._ It was the latter that was more unforgivable in his mind, because injuries as painful as they could be, were easy to heal, especially when they had two clerics in their party. But fear and the attack on her very being was harder to handle because words could only do so much to heal them, and actions took longer. Their attack which had probably lasted minutes at most would have more lasting effects, and it was that which he couldn’t forgive.

That he wouldn’t forgive.

     He slipped out of the room. Pausing for a moment outside the door as he glanced towards the others’ rooms, wondering if he should wake one of them to keep an eye on Nott. But then he would have to explain where he was going, and if that happened, he knew they wouldn’t let him go or at least insist on accompanying him. And as foolish as it might be, he wanted to be the one to do this. He needed to be.

He didn’t wake them.

   The rest of the inn was quiet, most people asleep or otherwise engaged in bed at this time of night, and he made it outside without anyone the wiser. Outside he took a deep breath, missing his coat as he shivered in the chilly night air.  Sparks danced around his finger, and he rubbed his hands up his arm, an old skill and one that he hadn’t used in a long time. Not since the long nights he’d spent, pushed to the edge of endurance as he was moulded into a soldier, and he shivered for a different reason now, knowing that he was skirting close to the man he had been back then. It was almost enough to make him flee back inside, ghosts stirring in the back of his mind, but then he remembered how Nott had looked when she had explained what had happened. Her desperation for him to know that she hadn’t been doing anything wrong, she hadn’t been scratching an itch, but trying to pick flowers for a friend, and his resolve hardened again as he turned and walked away from the inn, not letting himself look back.

     Frumpkin might have helped with this endeavour, but he at least knew where to start, because he remembered seeing the flowers that Nott had picked the previous day when they had been in the marketplace. In fact, he had very nearly picked some there and then much for the same reason that she had, but he had been distracted, pulled into a magical debate between Jester and Beau, and the thought had disappeared. Now he wished that he had because then Nott wouldn’t have been in this situation at all, and maybe it was guilt more than anything pushing him forward at this point. He wasn’t sure, and to be honest, he didn’t care.

They had hurt Nott.

     The town was quiet. Most people were asleep, oblivious to what had happened beyond their doors tonight, and probably uncaring too. _I was one of them once._ No, he had been worse, and wasn’t that a terrifying thought, one that kept him cold despite the fire in his veins as he made his way through the streets, ears straining, as most of the lamps had burned low now, leaving him reliant on the lightening in the sky above and his ears. Mercifully, his walk was uninterrupted apart from a thieving fox that had ventured into the town in search of food, it paused as it saw him, eyes glinting in the dark before it turned and bolted back into the night.

   The marketplace was easy to find, although it was somewhat eerie at this time of the morning, with the stalls packed away, looming out of the darkness as he approached. Now he was more alert. He doubted that Nott’s attackers would still be here, but one thing that being on the road with the Mighty Nein had taught him was to expect the unexpected, and if they were the kind of people, he thought they were, then the hunt might have kept them close. He hated thinking like that. Hated the calmness that was settling over him, a numbness that crept beneath the fire, ice that wasn’t touched by the flames. He hated it but embraced it all the same.

      It was the work of minutes, even in the darkness to find the flowers and his expression darkened as he realised that they had been trampled. He crouched, fingers reaching out to touch a bruised blossom. This wasn’t from the struggle with Nott, he knew that as much as he knew the fire beneath his skin. This was an act of wanton destruction, another way to wound Nott because she wouldn’t be able to come back and pick more flowers for Yasha, and not for the first time he wished that he could nurture as well as destroy. However, that wasn’t where his skills lay and taking a deep breath, he stood and looked around, before lifting a hand and casting dancing lights, bathing the world around him with light.

    There was blood on the ground. _Nott’s blood,_ his mind supplied, and for a moment, his fury burned bright again. He had seen the wounds, seen her pain, and yet there was something worse about being stood here and seeing the proof of what had happened. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been here, because he had been too late. He was always too late. He had realised too late what Ikkithon wanted from him. He had come back to himself too late to save his family. He could’ve lost Nott…

   The fire burned fiercely until he thought that he might be consumed by it. But then slowly, with each unsteady breath, it settled, still simmering below the surface, but retreating enough that he could focus on what he was seeing. And now he could see that it hadn’t been one-sided. There were bolts in one of the nearby market stalls, and blood sprayed a little higher than Nott stood, as though someone taller than her had taken a wild, desperate swing from a short sword. She had fought them. As scared and hurt as she had been, she had fought them. Alone, just as she had been with the Goblins back then, and the fire roared again, as he turned, searching desperately for some sign of where they could have gone.

More blood.

    This one had to be Nott’s escape route because it ducked and weaved into a narrow gap and then vanished, as though someone sneaky had disappeared between one blink and the next. But there was another trail. Not as heavy as Nott’s had been, just drips that glistened reddish-brown in the light of his orbs, already dried, but a trail all the same. He banished all but one of the orbs, calling it down to him and tossing part of his coat over it, dimming it. If he was going against humans, he didn’t want to help them more than necessary. He ignored the small voice that pointed out it could be something else, something worse as he moved forward, scanning the ground and listening for any sign that he was being led into an ambush.

     The trail led him out of the marketplace and down a small side-street until the quiet night was broken by a sudden burst of raucous laughter. He was so on edge that he nearly cast there and then, just holding it back at the last moment, as he peered around the corner and onto the next street. And there on the other side of the road, he saw a lantern still burning merrily despite the time, with more light spilling out from the window beyond it, and his eyes narrowed, tracking up to the sign hanging over the door. It was caked with dirt, but he could just make out the image of a snake curled around a tankard, just as there was more laughter followed by shouting. Apparently, not everywhere had shut for the night, and some revellers were still going.

Or drowning their failure.

    His fingers twitch, fire surging beneath the surface. In the past it might have been enough. For Bren, it would have been evidence enough, but he wasn’t that man anymore, or at least he was trying not to be. Which meant that he had to be sure. Besides, he wanted to see them with his own eyes. To see who had seen Nott picking flowers for a friend, and decided to hurt her. _A monster,_ he thought and straightened, hands curling, sparks dancing around his fingers. _And it takes one to know one._ He knew that Nott didn’t like it when he thought that way, but she wasn’t here to stop him, and right now, he needed that mindset for what he was going to do. Because Caleb – as selfish as he could be, and as much as he wanted to scream and rage that they had hurt his friend, his family, might still hesitate. Whereas the monster in his past, that simmered and roared beneath his skin wouldn’t, and with his skin crawling, he allowed that part of him to rise to the surface.

    He stood still, shoulders straight. A half-forgotten stance and he had to fight to stop his hands from crossing behind his back. _He’s not here._  The problem with letting this side of him out to play was that the memories threatened to come with it, but today he had a new weapon to hold them at bay, and in his mind’s eye, he saw Nott’s scared expression. Remembering the way her voice had cracked and broken as she desperately explained that she hadn’t even been causing mischief. It helped. An icy wall, settling between the flames he needed for this, and the memories. It wouldn’t hold forever though, and he needed to do this now before he lost the cover of night, and what little trail had led him here, and extinguishing the dancing lights he headed for the tavern.

**

    The inside was even filthier than the outside had been, and he supposed that was a sign of how much things had changed for the two of them, that he no longer felt at home here. There had been a time when places like this had been a sanctuary to him and Nott, places where they could blend in with the people currently filling the narrow booths and leaning over the bar that looked as though it could topple over at any moment.

   Still, it meant that no one spared him more than a passing glance as he stepped inside, and not for the first time he was grateful that he had so far managed to resist Jester’s determined efforts to spruce him up. He paused for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the low light provided by the oil lamps that filled the room with a low haze, before heading for the bar, deliberately stumbling once or twice, as though he’d already had a few too many. It was an old con, one that he and Nott had perfected together, and for a moment he was keenly aware of her absence, missing the sight of her flicking in and out of view out of the corner of his eye as she liberated what she could from the other drunk punters. It meant that the few eyes that had settled on him drifted away, letting him take in the details of the room out of the corner of his eye as he reached the bar, clinging to it, and acting as though it was the only thing holding him up as he turned to face the room.

    It was hard to see into some of the further booths, but considering that most of the figures there seemed to be slumped over already. Either permitted to sleep here, so that they would drink again as soon as they woke up, or just waiting to be turfed out onto the street. He paid them little mind. Instead his attention shifted to a group gathered at the far end of the bar. They appeared to be the source of the noise that had caught his attention in the first place, but for all the laughter that seemed to burst out every few minutes, no doubt fuelled by the growing collection of dust-crusted bottles in front of them, there was an edge to it. One that had the hairs on his arms standing on end.

“Something cheap,” he grunted when the barkeeper finally made it over to him, letting his accent thicken as it did when he was deep in his cups, trying not to think of that night when he had mistaken Jester for Astrid as he did so. Instead, he leant forward against the bar, eyes becoming half-lidded as he waited for his drink, looking as though he was caught in a haze when in truth, he was focused on the group.

    Most of them were younger than he was, wearing a mixture of battered leather armour that looked as though it wouldn’t deflect anything with the slightest edge, and clothes that looked as though they had seen better days. Certainly not Crownsguard then, and he still wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. It certainly would make his life easier, although he knew that Beau would still call him ten kinds of idiot at least for being here alone. _If it’s them,_ a more reasonable voice pointed out, and he wasn’t sure whether that was Beau trying to temper his worse edges, or Caduceus bleeding through, but he blocked it out. A filthy bottle appeared in front of him, and he fumbled for some coins to pay for it, careful not to let the barkeep see that he wasn’t quite as poor as he was making out, before reaching for the drink and taking a sip.

    It was foul, and he doubted that even Nott would be able to stomach it, but wary of eyes on him, he gulped down half of it before swaying slightly, moving subtly closer to the group between the act.

“…first we lost that job, then Jacob there lost the little beast…” Caleb’s heart began to race, and the fire itched beneath his palms. It wasn’t the first time he had heard Nott referred to in that way, and he knew it certainly wasn’t the first time that she had heard it, but he held the flames back, forcing himself to raise the bottle in a drunken toast as the speaker's eyes flickered towards him. He was younger than him, a scraggly first beard showing through, and clearly deep in his cups. More importantly, from Caleb’s viewpoint was the scratches on his cheek, claw marks that he was reasonably sure would match those of a certain Goblin. His toast was enough for the man to turn back to the others, and Caleb watched, no longer trying to hide his attention as he gestured at his face. “We had it, probably could have made a pretty penny handing it in or at least had some sport before you let it go.” He was talking to a taller man behind him, pushing at him, drink adding to his agitation and Caleb could see the trouble brewing, especially as the other man… Jacob finally pushed back.

“You had it in your hands!” There was genuine anger beneath the slurred edge to the words, and Caleb knew that he probably didn’t want to end up in the middle of that. But this was Nott that they were talking about, he was sure of it now, the ice flowing deeper and the flames surging up. “You screwed up just as much. Such a great warrior losing to a goblin of all things…”

“Why you!” The first punch was thrown before Caleb had even set his drink on the bar and pushed away from it, and the second saw the fight spilling out, as Jacob ducked letting one of their other companions take the blow instead.

   Caleb stepped forward, hands out, and the fire came as quickly as breathing. Just as it had back then, and for a second his thoughts darkened, the memories lashing against his defences. _Nott. This is for Nott. This is for Nott._ That was the difference. This was to protect. To avenge. This was for Nott. He clung to that thought, locked into the forefront of his mind, just as the first person spotted the flames wreathing his fingers. His startled curse spreading quickly, the fight forgotten as they turned to face this new threat. He was aware that more than his targets were watching him now, the watchful eyes making his skin crawl, and he heard the barkeeper telling them to take it outside. He ignored it all, eyes locked on Jacob and his main target, who was now sporting a bloody nose and was snarling at him, looking for a fight now and not realising that this wasn’t going to be a fight if Caleb had anything to say about it. “ Wha’ the hell do you want?”  He slurred, spitting blood on the floor, his hand shifting to the hilt of his sword.

“You.”

“Me?” That drew a laugh, and Caleb could see their alarm at the fire easing as they got a look at him, knowing that he didn’t look like a threat. It was a weapon he had used more times than he could count, and it worked now, the hand shifting away from the blade, and the wizard smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. It wasn’t Caleb’s smile.

It was Bren’s.

It was the smile of a man who could and would harm others.

“You.” He stepped forward, shoulders straight again, a soldier with a purpose. “You see, that little beast you chose to attack for the ‘crime’ of gathering flowers for a friend, is my friend.” He had no intention of explaining that she was much more, not to these people. These monsters. Especially when he saw his target’s lip curl up before the man burst out laughing.

“Friend? You’re friends with that create…” Caleb didn’t give him chance to finish speaking before his hands were moving, and the flames lashed out.

*

And on the far side of town, Nott started awake with a frightened cry, hands raised to defend herself.

 


	3. Caleb: Part 3

   Half asleep still, for a moment Nott was convinced that faces were looming out of the darkness around her and she braced herself, waiting for the pain to follow. It took another beat for her to register the softness beneath her, and the warm covers slipping down into her lap, and another for her to lower hands, blinking at the sight of the inn room. _I’m safe._ It wasn’t as comforting as it should have been, even as she twisted her trembling hands together in her lap for a moment before reaching out, searching for Caleb’s warmth, needing it to drive away the last of the memory turned nightmare. Instead of Caleb, her searching fingers closed on soft, warm fur and there was a sleepy mew that had her flinching and twisting, blinking even as Frumpkin blinked back at her with another soft chirp.

“Caleb…” Nott whispered, glancing away from the cat and searching the room, but there was no sign of the wizard, and it didn’t take her long to note the absence of his coat and boots or the book holsters that had been set carefully on the side. There was a brief moment of hurt because he had been there every other time she had woken, brushing away her apologies for disturbing him, and this sudden absence was wrong and scary, her fingers tightening in Frumpkin’s fur. “Where is he?” She looked back at the cat, half-hoping to see the eerie blue light in his eyes that would show that Caleb was with him. But, it was just the piercing gaze of a cat that met her eyes, the two of them staring at each other before Frumpkin mewed – sounding worried, or maybe that was just her – before he nuzzled her hand.

_Caleb, where are you?_

    It did occur to her, even through her fear, that he might just have gone downstairs, a quick glance at the window confirming that the sky was beginning to lighten. However, the thought of venturing beyond the room without him at her side was too much right now. Rationally she knew that her attackers weren’t going to be there, and even if they were, all she would have to do was shout, and the rest of their friends would come to her. It was hard to be rational right then, the memories too close, and she was in the process of shrinking back into the bed, preparing to wait for Caleb to return when another memory bubbled up.

_“You are safe now.” Nott had been exhausted, and almost half-asleep as Caleb spoke. Distantly wondering at the threat and menace in those words, even as the promise in them warmed her, drawing her to Caleb’s side as she burrowed closer. Trusting him. Believing that promise. It was enough to make her relax despite the lingering fear, her eyes closing as she pressed into his warmth and the safety that he promised. “I will make sure of it…” The soft words had barely registered, sleep already tugging her under._

“I will make sure of it…” She repeated the words now, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t paid it much mind at the time, but now, confronted with the evidence of the empty room and the fact that he had taken his books with him they took on a whole other meaning. _I will make sure of it…_  Fear – not for herself this time, but for Caleb propelled her out of the bed, because she knew at once that he wouldn’t have told the others what he was doing. That he had gone alone to deal with this, for her. Nott felt sick, and she was trembling as she turned back and lifted Frumpkin, the familiar meowing again – and this time, she was sure that he sounded worried – as gathered him close.

    It was only Frumpkin’s warmth in her eyes, a low purr rumbling up as she held him tightly, that allowed her to open the door and slip out into the corridor behind. A floorboard creaking beneath her feet, had her jumping in fright and almost bolting back to the room. _I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe._ Why wasn’t it as reassuring when she said it? Still, it kept her moving forward, eyes darting from door to door and across to the top of the stairs as though expecting them to loom up out of the darkness, and she was so distracted that she almost missed the door that she had been looking for.

    Quietly, she tried the handle, relieved when it turned faces were looming, pushing it forward and peering inside. In the light from the hallway, she could just make our Jester’s tail hanging over the edge of the far bed and Yasha’s larger form in the middle one, and she slipped inside and made a beeline for the third bed where Beau was sprawled, snoring softly.  “Beau…” Nott hissed as she reached the monk, casting a nervous glance towards the other two, not wanting to wake everyone up just yet. Besides, she had a feeling that Caleb would accept help – if he even needed it – from Beau better than he would from the others. The monk snuffled and growled something that could have been a threat or something about the correct fermentation of grapes before pulling away from Nott. “Beau wake up!” This time Frumpkin wiggled out of her arms and landed on the bed, the impact doing what her voice hadn’t and Beau came awake, fists already raised, and a snarl on her lips as she lashed out.

    Nott sprang back with a startled yelp, just managing to avoid the blow. “It’s Nott! It’s Nott!” She hissed as loudly as she dared, aware of Yasha rolling over in the background, but her eyes were locked on Beau who had frozen, fists still raised as though she had been about to lash out again.

“…Nott?”

“Yes.” Yasha shifted again, and Nott pressed a finger to her lips as Beau blinked sleepily at her, before pointing at the door. Waiting until she saw comprehension dawn, before retreating, creeping back across the room and out into the corridor. Frumpkin hopped off the bed and followed, twining around her ankles, not leaving her alone, and she wondered what Caleb had said to him before leaving. However, as touched as she was by the gesture, she wished that he’d kept the cat with him just so that he wasn’t alone, but it was too late for that, and instead, she bent down and scratched Frumpkin behind the ears once they were in the corridor.

    It only took a moment for Beau to join her, pulling the door to behind her, still sleepy, but beginning to frown as she woke up more and got a good look at the goblin and the wary way her eyes kept darting to the top the stairs and back again. “What’s going on?” Blunt and to the point, and Nott flinched despite herself, the sharpness a little too much right now and Beau must have noticed because she sighed and tried again, voice softer. “Nott, what is going on?”

“Caleb, he…I…” Nott snapped her mouth shut as the words came tumbling out in a confused cluster, glancing down as she blinked back sudden tears. _I felt safe, and they took that away._ Anger sparked then, deep beneath the fear and worry, and she lifted her head. “I got into trouble last night. I was hurt…attacked.” She spoke quietly, slowly, trying to distance herself from what had happened, but she was unable to keep the waver entirely out of her voice, and Beau’s eyes narrowed before her gaze darted towards the room Nott had been sharing with Caleb.

“Does Caleb know?”

“Yes…” Nott whispered. “I woke up, and he wasn’t here, I think…I think he’s gone after t-them.”

“He went on his own?” Beau demanded, abruptly awake as she caught just how bad the situation could be and Nott winced but nodded. “I’m going to kill him.” Before Nott could protest or counter her, Beau had disappeared back into the room, and Nott hesitated, not sure what to do, desperate to go after Caleb but still unable to face the thought of going outside. Before she could do anything, Beau had returned, still tying her sash in place, her staff strapped to her back and a scowl firmly in place. “Stay here and wake the others, I have a feeling we’re going to need to leave in a hurry.”

“What…?”

“Caleb would raze this town to the ground for you,” Beau was surprisingly gentle, despite her scowl, and it gave Nott pause as she realised that the monk didn’t sound as opposed to that as she should. That surprise must have shown through, because Beau stepped forward and rested a hand on the top of her head, and this time Nott didn’t flee, because there was safety in that touch and a promise. A promise that she would be safe again. “We all would,” Beau added. “Just not alone…” Then she was gone, heading for the stairs with a determined step, and Nott wasn’t entirely sure who was going to face her wrath first, the ones who had attacked her, or Caleb.

“Look after my boy…” She called, not entirely sure whether the monk had heard her as Beau didn’t falter, but that was okay because she trusted Beau with her boy. She had to, just as she trusted the others now as she moved to wake them – trusting them not to hate her for bringing this trouble down on their heads.

**

_Fire._

    It always came down to fire. Caleb didn’t think that he would ever be free of that. He didn’t deserve to be, and yet tonight – for Nott – the flames seemed a little less daunting, a little less consuming. At least until the screams started. The cries in the night, laughter and revelry burning away.

_It always burns._

**

    Beau had broken into a run the moment she was outside the tavern. She hadn’t been joking when she’d told Nott that Caleb would raze the town for her, or that any of them – even now she could feel the burn of anger that someone had attacked Nott and that they hadn’t been there to protect her. That she hadn’t been there. The guilt.

But this was Caleb.

    It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable of doing the razing, it was what it would cost him to do it. Part of her hoped that he hadn’t been able to find the people who had hurt Nott and that he was delaying coming back to the tavern and facing the clearly terrified Goblin. But, she knew better. He had been trained for this, moulded into a weapon for this kind of destruction – although no one had intended him to do it for a friend, let alone a tiny goblin that loved him with all her heart. Which meant that he would be brutal and that he wouldn’t come back until he succeeded.

    Not for the first time she found herself wishing that she could at least cast message or something, as it would make it easier to find the wizard as she followed the path from Nott’s story, searching for the familiar figure of Caleb. It was only a couple of minutes later that she realised she didn’t need to look for him, her nose wrinkling as she caught the smoke in the air, and speeding up, she vaulted up one of the lamp-posts that had illuminated the streets earlier. The lamp at the top had burnt itself out, which meant she could perch on the top of it, and from her vantage point it was easier to make out the flickering glow of a large fire on the other side of town.

_Caleb._

    At least one building was in flames, possibly more and Beau cursed under her breath. She was too late. It wasn’t about damage control now, it was about finding Caleb, dragging him out of the past if she needed to and getting them all out of town before the fingers started pointing at them. Still spitting curses she dropped from the lamp, landing neatly in the street and bolting, heading towards the fire as quickly as she could.

    She veered around the marketplace that they had visited earlier because the alarm had clearly gone up, and there were too many people flooding the space and she didn’t have the time or the patience to push a path through them. Instead, she darted through sidestreets and back-alleys, eyes locked on the growing glow in the air above her.

“Caleb!” Beau shouted as she burst out into the middle of one of the larger streets, voice carrying over the distant raised voices and the crackle of the flames, grimacing as the smoke that filled the air caught in her throat. She was a couple of streets away, and she could feel the heat of it. _Caleb, what did you do?_ A distant part of her was impressed with the damage that he had done, the vengeance he had claimed – although she wouldn’t be sharing that with him, or the others for that matter, easily able to see Fjord’s disapproval. A larger part of her was worried. Where was Caleb? Had he managed to get away before the flames took over? Was he trapped in the past again? Had he been caught? There were too many questions and no answers, and ignoring the smoke she shouted for him over and over, pushing for the people that were beginning to clog the streets here as well as they tried to get away from the fire, or crowd in to see what was happening. “Caleb!”

Had he already fled?

    No, he would never have left Nott behind. That much Beau was confident of, it was just whether or not he had got away from the fire that worried her and she hesitated for a moment, glancing towards the burning building and then back towards the marketplace and the road back to the tavern. _‘I was trying to pick some flowers for Yasha’,_ she wasn’t sure why she remembered that part of the tale then, or why it gave her pause. It had been that simple act, that friendship that had started this entire mess, and if Caleb knew that…

    Praying to Ioun, and every other deity she could name at that moment that she wasn’t making the wrong decision Beau turned and bolted back the other way. Away from the flames, and the screams and shouts, the hair on the back of her neck standing on edge. _Is this what he hears every time?_ She had never really asked what happened in those moments, and she doubted now would be the time to ask, but one day. One day she would ask him about it. For now, she would settle on finding him.

“CALEB! CALEB!” She coughed and spluttered even as she continued to shout, ignoring the small voice that whispered that he might not be able to respond to her even if he wanted to. _He’s going to be okay. Nott is okay. We’re going to get them out of here,_ she told herself, darting between people, growling a curse at the staggering drunk who lumbered into her path and leered at her. He was lucky that she merely shoved past him rather than punching him, although she wasn’t wholly abandoning that idea as he shouted something lewd after her and she flipped him off, before keeping moving. _Caleb, you better be here!_

     The marketplace was even busier now. Men and women and children still in their sleeping clothes huddled in groups, clearly driven from their houses in case the fires spread further. Revellers who looked as though they hadn’t made it home yet, and were looking around in confusion, still drinking. And others pushing through, helping the Crownsguard who were ferrying water towards the fire, joining the efforts to contain the flames. Beau skirted around them, and pushed past the others, her throat burning from the smoke and the shouting, her eyes stinging from it too now. “CALEB!” She almost missed him, even as she bellowed his name over and over, lurching out of the path of another group rushing towards the fire, and that was when she spotted him, skidding to a halt.

_Caleb…_

     The wizard had lodged himself into a narrow space between two stalls, his back pressed against the stone wall of apothecary that Jester had pranked earlier. He was facing the chaos, but it took Beau all of a second to realise that he wasn’t seeing it. That he probably wasn’t even aware of it. His eyes had taken on the distant cast that usually followed a fight, and all the colour seemed to have drained from his face, leaving his eyes standing out vividly in the light of the torches now filling the area. _Well shit._ She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it, coughing again even as she pushed her way through to him. Scolding him for going off on his own was clearly going to have to wait.

    As she got closer to him, she realised that there was colour in his face, eyes narrowing as she took in the blood trickling from a split eyebrow, and the reddened swelling around the eye. He was going to have one hell of a black eye, and she growled under her breath. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t thought about hitting him more than once, but that didn’t mean she liked seeing him hurt – especially for defending Nott. “Hey,” she didn’t let that anger bleed into her voice as she reached him, not sure he would differentiate between anger for him and anger at him in his current stay. “Hey Caleb,” she repeated, dropping to a crouch in front of him, searching for some sign that he knew she was there, but he didn’t so much as blink “Caleb? It’s me. It’s Beau.”

Nothing.

    Worrying at her bottom lip, she scanned him, searching for other injuries. It looked as though he had taken a couple of other blows, and she made a note to get Caduceus or Jester to check him out once they were all together, not trusting the wizard to tell her if he was hurt right now. He would probably argue that he deserved it. His fingers were blackened and bloody, curled so tightly into fists that he was leaving bloody furrows on his palm. “Caleb,” she took one hand, gently but firmly unfolding it. “Caleb, look at me.” She ordered, even as she reached for the other hand to repeat her efforts. That finally got a reaction as he jerked it out of her reach, and she caught a fleeting glimpse of the flowers he was clutching in that hand before he pressed it against his chest. “Okay, okay. I won’t touch them, but you need to look at me.”

Negotiation.

    There was a moment, a pause and then Caleb blinked. Slow and heavy, and still not entirely with her, but his eyes were shifting towards her. Not meeting her gaze, but that was normal, but at least acknowledging her presence. “Do you know who I am?”

“B-Beau…” She honestly hadn’t expected a response, and she grinned at him – more from stress than real relief, but it was something, and she squeezed the hand that she was still holding. “Was…? Is Nott…” He was slipping in and out, Zemnian bleeding in as it did when he was caught in the past, but she was relieved to hear him ask about Nott because that meant he hadn’t gone too far.

“Nott is fine,” Beau murmured, and his eye twitched, and he frowned, not quite believing her and the monk sighed before amending her reply. “Okay, she’s scared, especially when she woke up and you weren’t there.” She winced at the same time as Caleb, the scolding breaking through despite her best intentions, and she was quick to continue before he could dwell on that. “But, she is waking the others up so we can get the hell out of here, so she’s not alone.” That didn’t seem to help, as Caleb’s frown deepened, but at least he was looking a little more focused.

“Sorry…”

“No,” Beau wasn’t having any of that, shaking her head as he tried to continue, before taking her sash and reaching up to dab at the cut. “I get why you did it.” She really did, although she had a feeling that there would be at least one or two lectures coming his way from the others. “And we would have helped you if we’d known.”

“I…” Caleb blinked again, wincing as the pain of her ministrations registered, the haze receding, although he made no effort to move away from her. “I promised her that she was safe and that I would make sure of it…” He lifted his head, gaze shifting to where the flames and smoke were still visible. “I promised… but…”

“Come on.” The bleeding hadn’t stopped completely, but it was a minor concern compared to the way his gaze was threatening to become unfocused again. They couldn’t stay here. She had no idea if anyone had seen the role he’d played in the fire, and she didn’t want to have to fight there way out, and he needed to be away from the flames. She got to her feet and held out her hand, relieved when Caleb only hesitated briefly before taking it and allowing her to pull him up. She noticed him wince as he moved, reinforcing the need to get the clerics to check on him. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, shifting her grip to his elbow and pulling him along, aware of the way he kept glancing back, not sure if the flames reflected in his eyes were from the past or the present and not caring.

He was alive.

Nott was safe.

   That was all that mattered. However, as they moved, not rushing in case it drew unwelcome attention as most people in the streets were rushing towards the chaos rather than away from it, she could feel him curling in on himself, and she sighed. “Why did you do it?”

“What?”

“Why did you do it?” She gestured back towards the fire, before looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “You could have let us help. You could have just got Nott as far away from those people as possible. Instead, you went after them by yourself. Why?”

“I…” Caleb seemed to flounder for a moment, taken aback by her words and approach, and she was worried that she had pushed too hard as he pressed his hands to the chest, head bowed. Then she realised he was looking at the flowers he was still holding, sheltering them protectively against his chest, and slowly he lifted his head and met her gaze. “I didn’t want her to just believe it…” His voice was soft, and she had to press close. “I wanted her to know that she was safe.”

“Then tell her that when we get there,” Beau smiled, more grim than anything, but approving. “Tell her that she is safe and that you made sure of it.” They would have their own words to add, promises, but she knew even if they’d known, that it was Caleb’s word that would hold the most weight. That Nott had already believed his promise, even before this, although the wizard was right. There was a difference in believing something and knowing it, and remembering how fearful Nott had been when she’d left, she couldn’t help but be glad he’d taken the path he had.

*

    They walked the rest of the way in silence, but it was comfortable, and Beau had regained her hold on his elbow. Still wary of hidden injuries, and needing the reassurance even if she wouldn’t admit it aloud. The fact that he hadn’t commented or pulled away told her that Caleb probably needed it as much as she did.

    Eventually, the tavern came into view, and Beau was relieved to see the others waiting for them, the cart already loaded and hitched. “There they are,” she murmured, nudging Caleb, although it was unnecessary as the others had obviously been watching for them, Caduceus raising a hand in greeting before the others started to call out to them. And from the midst, Nott emerged, visibly wary at least until her eyes landed on Caleb.  “Caleb!” Nott shouted, hesitating for half a second, glancing between the safety of the others and them, before bolting forward, eyes locked on the wizard, Frumpkin at her heels.

“Tell her,” Beau ordered, pushing Caleb forward and moving aside.

       Caleb stumbled and then froze, seemingly incapable of moving forward. However, Nott quickly closed the distance between them before skidding to a halt, glancing anxiously at Beau, before looking up at Caleb. “…Caleb?”

“Nott…” Caleb said softly, releasing an unsteady breath before he dropped to his knees in front of her and held out the flowers that he had collected. The petals were sooty at the edges, and they were a little crushed, but Nott accepted them with wide-eyes and an uncertain smile. “You’re safe now,” he lifted his head and met her gaze, before holding his hands out so that she could see the state of them as he added a little unsteadily. “I made sure of it.”


End file.
